


Dreams

by KaijinKyn



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, F/F, M/M, Nonbinary Chara and Frisk, Occasional angst, Reader is Frisk and Chara, Undertale Spoilers, frisk and chara dream of alternate universes, prepare for sad times, uh oh unfolding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7769512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaijinKyn/pseuds/KaijinKyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“we can always watch it another day if you’re not doing too good, kid.” Sans said, hands now shoved into his pockets, looking casual while also keeping an eye on you. It was something he tended to do anyway, but you hadn’t noticed until after...Well. </p>
<p>“I’m fine.” You tell him and convince yourself that ‘yes, I am fine’ because Chara’s seething over nothing in the corner of your shared consciousness and, really, it was just a dream. Dreams weren’t something to be afraid of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You dream, and it is unpleasant. In other news, Spaghetti Time is still pretty fun.

The first dream happens exactly a year after the barrier had gone down and monsters of every shape, size and age went free. You’re instantly aware of the feeling of flowers underneath you and a light directly above and you feel Chara start to panic, the same sense of terror gripping your soul tightly.

“We reset, we reset oh my God after all this time after we _promised we wouldn’t_ we reset-” You find yourself taking the backseat in the vehicle known as your and Chara’s shared body, the distraught and anger your dead headmate was feeling taking over as you felt your fist pound flowers until the side of your hand was covered in sap and bright yellow pollen, and Chara had screamed your throat raw.

The fit ended as quickly as it had come and Chara was completely silent, letting you take the proverbial reins as you did your best to wipe away the muck on your hand.

“It’s fine.” Your voice came out croaky and you massage your throat with the cleaner hand, wishing you had some water. Waterfall was a ways away from here, and you’d never really gotten the chance to see if Toriel’s sink tap had actually worked - and if the water it may or may produce was safe to drink.

“It’s not fine!” Chara responds out loud, voice scratchy, because there’s never anybody here to speak to in these patch of flowers and Flowey himself was in the next room over - and oh, Flowey. _Asriel_. “Sans...He’ll kill us, Frisk. He’s going to kill us.”

“It was an accident.” You get to your feet, brushing pollen off your knees. Curiously, you aren’t in any pain - usually when doing resets there’s the lingering pain of when you smacked your head on the earth after falling, but this time you seem to have been spared of the feeling. Small miracles, you suppose.

Chara is silent, contemplative and angry and extremely uneasy, a feeling that grows when the first noise you hear stepping into the next room is loud sobbing.

“He’s angry as us.” Chara whispers, perhaps more to themselves than you but that was okay because you were thinking something along those lines as well. The sight of the usually cruel Flowey bent over himself sobbing was something that made you uncomfortable, not that you wanted to have the flower torment you as per usual.

“Asri-” Chara starts to speak, calling out their dead sibling’s name but you wrestle control from them as fast as you can, a detail making itself known to you as you both approach the small, crying flower. He is...Hurt. The usually bright yellow flowers that surround his face (?) are dull and wilting, and full of scratches and tears. Something is wrong.

Apparently you weren’t quick enough, however, because Flowey still turns around with a gasp and you wince at the wide eyed look you’re being given by the flower.

“Chara?” They speak, all high tones and hopeful gazes and - that’s not right, because Flowey is one of the few who knows that Chara _is_ there.

“Frisk.” You correct and the flower wilts, Chara going back to their contemplative, angry silence because now they’ve realised something is wrong here as well.

Still, though, Flowey does not adapt his usual cruel persona, instead giving you a pitiful look that doesn’t help the curling feeling of distrust and unease growing in your chest. Something is very, very wrong.

“You shouldn’t be here. They’ll kill you, and steal your soul, and then the king will-” Flowey looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack and you’re instinct is to reach out and help, help, help him but you can’t because a familiar figure is coming closer and Flowey barely manages to burrow into the ground as flames lick at the dirt and interrupt your fairly one sided conversation.

The figure is, of course, Toriel, and all you and Chara want to do is throw yourselves at her and apologise for ruining your happy ending, except - it’s not Toriel, not really, because this tall horned woman looks like she hasn’t slept properly in years, fur unkempt and matted in places, claws sharpened to a...disturbingly dangerous degree.

She is still kind, however, and leads you by the hand through the deep purple of the ruins - but the way her claws dig into the soft surface of your skin and pierces it reminds you that this is not your Toriel, and this is not your underground.

The bedroom she shows you is uncomfortably bare, and you sit on the edge of the unfamiliarly hard mattress and try to sort your thoughts, but it’s difficult with Chara trying to do the same and having a very different process to you.

“We...We’re going to have to do it all again.” Chara eventually says out loud and neither of you feel very determined at all, the weight of your past sins and the way the underground isn’t exactly how you remember it making you both just want to crawl under the bed and lay there forever.

“It’s fine.” You repeat, but neither of you make a move to stand and eventually you sigh, lying down on the mattress and staring up at the ceiling, ignoring the wet on your cheek. “It’s fine.”

~~

You suppose you must have eventually fallen asleep, because when you open your eyes next there is a slightly charred piece of pie sitting on a somewhat dirty plate on the lightly dusted floor.

You pick it up wordlessly and put it into your inventory (you’re still not entirely sure how that works, but you’ve tried not to think about it too hard) before stepping outside and taking the time to explore, as per usual. Toriel’s door is locked, curiously, and the mirror in the hallway is also covered in dust. You wipe it away with a hand and look at yourself for a few seconds, the view of your slightly younger body disturbing you. Chara does not speak and neither do you, eventually turning away to join Toriel in the living room to do what must be done.

Neither of you particularly enjoy telling her - telling your mother - that you want to leave her side, but you’ve got a job to do and an underground to free.

Toriel gets angry. Toriel never got angry before.

“You ungrateful child! I feed you and do my best to take care of you and this is how you repay me?” The words strike something unhappy in both you and Chara and multiple times you’re tempted to stop and give up and go back but- you trust in your determination, and it gets you through as usual.

Toriel cries (another difference), hugs you as best she can (it feels as if she is not used to doing that) and then runs away without looking back (and you feel your sins and her sins and the sins to come crawling crawling _crawling_ )

“You...Spared her.” You jump, having forgotten Flowey in your own confused thoughts and the flower is giving you a strange look. “I’ve never seen anybody spare somebody down here.” You open your mouth to speak- “Down here it’s kill or be killed.” Flowey does not gloat when he say those words, instead looking downcast at him stem and you close your mouth, starting to get frustrated with the way you didn’t understand _anything_ anymore.

“H-here, I’ll accompany you on your journey! Maybe...Maybe I can help.”

“You want to help?” Chara asks, voice lathered in skepticism and Flowey jolts, petals wilting slightly.

“I don’t...I’ve seen too many humans die down here already. I want to help for once - maybe finally I can make a difference.” Chara is too astounded to say anything and so are you, so eventually you just shrug and continue on your way, the flower seeming to hesitate for a second before following after, stem dragging through the ground.

It’s...Not a method of transportation you’ve seen him use before - he was more like some kind of messed up jack-in-the-box before, popping up in places to follow you, so seeing him actively move makes you kind of uncomfortable in more ways than one, but you don’t complain.

You can tell Chara is thinking hard and you wonder if they’ve figured out what the catch to this strange underground is - you’re both extremely out of your element, nothing is how you remember it and it’s putting you both on edge, but the worst feeling is the guilt that is now crawling in your gut because on the other side of these doors is somebody you made a promise to, a promise you (seem to have) broke.

Snowdin is as cold as you remember it being and you shiver in your old, thinning striped jumper, tugging at the sleeves to try and keep you even a bit warmer.

This strip of forest between the Ruins and Sans’ sentry station had frightened you at one point, but after so many resets you’d eventually become accustomed to the sense of dread that Sans managed to strike in you, but - if this pattern of strangeness continued and things were going the way you assumed they were, then there was good reason to be scared this time around.

_’Not that Sans himself isn’t scary when he wants to be.’_ Chara mutters irritably in your head and you hum in agreement, stopping at the bridge covered in bars that were - no longer too wide to walk through. _’Uh, what?’_ Chara is confused and so are you but you don’t have a lot of time to contemplate it because Flowey gives a sudden squeak of fear and once again ducks under the ground, leaving you to turn around sharply and be faced with the sight of Sans...but not.

It’s the glint of gold in his perpetual grin that catches your attention the most and you focus on it furiously, trying to ignore how wrong this all was. He offers you a hand but you don’t take it - the monsters here and dangerous, you’ve learnt, actually a threat and you’ve got no idea what sort of thing Sans could do in a world like this when the Sans you knew was already one of the strongest ( _’debatable,’_ ) monsters you knew.

Sans ‘shortcuts’ his way through the bars on the bridge and Flowey pops up on the other side, a wide distance away from the skeleton - it’s an action that tells you not taking his hand was a good idea and you feel relief for multiple reasons - and you end up having to climb the bars, leaving Chara to do it because you’d never been particularly good at things like that. Scaling the mountain the first time had been a taxing activity in itself.

Sans tells you “my brother will be coming this way soon. i advise you find somewhere to hide yourself,” the grin on his face looking more sinister with every word. However there’s no convenient shaped lamp to hide you this time and Papyrus doesn’t take long to show up.

Flowey looks on in terror Sans does nothing and Sans does nothing but _smile_ as Papyrus spots you and even though Chara is screaming at you to _’move, move, MOVE,’_ your feet won’t work and you realise that what you are feeling is fear.

A bone pierces you through the chest and your blood stains the snow as you fall to your knees, soul weak and LOVE empty as it is gripped in the unforgiving claws of the skeleton you knew was supposed to be kind and-

You wake up screaming in bed but you’re not sure if it’s actually you or Chara doing the screaming. Never-the-less it wakes up Flowey, his pot sitting in it’s usual place on your bedside table which jolts when he starts in surprise.

“What the fu-” His startled curse is cut short as your bedroom door is thrown open, Toriel - your Toriel, your mom, Chara’s mom - rushing to your side.

“My child, is everything alright?” You don’t reply, throwing your arms around her neck instead and burying your face in her shoulder, taking comfort in the warmth of her fur. “Shh, it’s okay, my dear, everything is alright. It was all just a bad dream…”

~~

As per every Tuesday, it was movie night, also known as ‘Spaghetti Time’. After escaping the underground Toriel had made quick work of adopting you - and the two children she’d lost all those years ago, although mostly not to her knowledge. Chara was kind of stuck to you, Flowey had been a special present from Sans that, while a kind gesture, you still weren’t entirely sure _why_ he’d done that.

Still, after all that it had become somewhat of a tradition for them all (not every monster in the underground, of course, just the close friends you’d made on your journey) to get together every Tuesday and watch a new movie.

Toriel had asked you if you wanted to cancel after the terrible dream (nightmare?) you’d had last night but you’d both rather die 100 times (which you had done) than give up Spaghetti Time.

“So what’d you two dream about to make you scream like that?” Flowey asked, looking curious. He was certainly less malicious that he used to be - you liked to think he had more of a soul than he said he did, even if there really wasn’t anything there.

“Nothing important.” Chara deflected the question easily, obviously not wanting to talk about it and you found yourself agreeing. It had put you both on edge, for multiple reasons - the fear of resetting unconsciously, the way nothing had been as you’d remembered it, the fact that you’d shared a dream - that was something that had never happened before. And anyway, it had been just a dream. There wasn’t any reason to dwell on it.

“...Doesn’t _look_ like nothing important,” Flowey replied, adding a somewhat smug “or sound it, either.” Onto the end.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t, so shut your stupid flower face.” Chara grumbled, shoving your foot into your sock harsher than needed.

“Be careful.” You scolded quietly, wriggling your toes to make sure they were okay. Chara rolled your eyes, shoving your foot into the sock...Gently.

“Yeah yeah, whatever, _careful_. There, you happy? Seriously, you need to grow a spine.” You didn’t respond, hearing the sound of the front door open and close and the familiar loud voice of Papyrus - your friend, Papyrus - ring through the house.

“HELLO, MISS TORIEL! MY BROTHER AND I ARE HERE FOR THE ANNUAL MOVIE NIGHT FESTIVITIES!” Flowey snorted from beside you, the beginnings of an amused smile on his face. Papyrus had been the only friend Flowey had actually liked while trapped as a flower in the underground, and their friendship had continued even to this day. Aside from Chara (and you, although it wasn’t like the flower would admit it) Papyrus was the only one who could make Flowey actually smile.

You stood silently, picking up Flowey’s pot carefully in your arms and padding down the stairs, rounding into the living room to see Papyrus talking animatedly and loudly to Toriel. Sans turned towards you and-

_”my brother will be coming this way soon. I advise you find somewhere to hide yourself,” the grin on his face looking more sinister with every word._

“-kid? you alright there?” You jolted away from Sans with a fear that was strangely unconscious, the skeleton looking surprised and holding up his hands with a reassuring look. “hey, bucko, ‘s just me.” You hesitated before relaxing, sighing quietly. _’It was just a nightmare, Frisk, c’mon.’_ Chara muttered, but you knew that they’d been momentarily frightened as well.

“HUMAN? IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG? DO WE NEED TO CALL A DOCTOR? _ARE YOU DYING, HUMAN?_ ” Papyrus asked, questions getting increasingly worried as he reached out a hand in a gesture that was probably supposed to be comfort, but all you could see was clawed bones gripping your soul.

“I-I’m fine.” That was Chara, your body making a sort of jerking movement away from Papyrus as you flinched away from his touch and Chara tried to wrestle control to keep you still, almost dropping Flowey in your internal battle before they eventually won.

All three monsters were giving you concerned looks, Sans bordering on suspicious and you felt a chill run down your spine, trying to forget the glint of gold metal against white snow that turned red with you, your blood.

“My child, perhaps it _would_ be best to postpone todays movie night.”

“No!” Chara snapped and you winced at their angry tone, pushing their consciousness away and giving your mother your best smile. “Don’t want to cancel. Let down Alphys.” And that was true, because she’d really been looking forward to showing you all the newest movie she’d found - surprisingly, not an anime.

“we can always watch it another day if you’re not doing too good, kid.” Sans said, hands now shoved into his pockets, looking casual while also keeping an eye on you. It was something he tended to do anyway, but you hadn’t noticed until after...Well.

“I’m fine.” You tell him and convince yourself that ‘yes, I am fine’ because Chara’s seething over nothing in the corner of your shared consciousness and, really, it was just a dream. Dreams weren’t something to be afraid of.

Even so, when you sit down on the couch, Flowey still in your arms, he gives you a self-satisfied look and a snipe of “nothing important, huh?”

“Shut up, Asriel.” Chara snaps in return, shoving your hand into the flower’s face and you let them have that, at least until he bit you in return. “Ow! What the fuck, you asshole-”

“Swear jar.” You say, setting Flowey on the table and peering over the couch at Toriel talking to Sans in hushed tones in the kitchen, ignoring the feeling of blood oozing out of the cut that was now on your hand.

Chara prods at you mentally, irritable and curious but you ignore them, keeping your thoughts closed off as you peer at your gardian blankly.

“...What are you _doing_?” Flowey snipes from the table and you hear him shifting his pot along its wooden surface, trying to see what you were looking at. “Pfft, did you dream about the smiley trashbag or something? ...Was it dirty?” You make a face and Chara actually screams while you're preoccupied with the expression, attracting attention again as you physically resist Chara from throwing your body at the flower, both of you falling off the couch and flailing as you fought for control.

“Get up, get up, get up, let me tear his petals off-” Chara hisses, at least having the mind to be quiet while Flowey laughed at you both from the table.

“HUMAN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE FLOOR? IT’S DIRTY DOWN THERE!” Papyrus boomed from above you and Chara continued to flail your arms as the skeleton picked you up, a smile on his skull as he placed you down on the couch. “THERE YOU GO! TRY NOT TO DO THAT AGAIN! THE FLOOR ISN’T GOOD FOR YOU!” He stomps back into the kitchen, the chef's hat on his head almost falling off with his exaggerated body motions, Sans ducking expertly to avoid a stray swing of the taller skeleton’s arms. ‘His spaghetti gets better every day’, you think to yourself with a smile.

“I hate you.” Chara takes over your mouth while your thoughts are preoccupied, turning to the flower still on the table with a sour expression that you feel uncomfortable with on your face.

“‘hate’ is a bit of a strong word, huh, kiddo?” Chara jolts in surprise, and you turn to Sans, the skeleton standing casually at the end of the table. You can feel Chara’s distaste rolling through you like waves and you send back your own disappointment - you were friends with the skeleton, after all, or at least as good a friend you could be after he remembered you cutting him open with a knife.

“Don’t hate.” You reply, getting a snort of disbelief from Flowey and you frown at him. You _don’t_ hate him, neither does Chara, he’s just...Difficult.

“well that’s pretty contradictory of you.” Sans responds, his grin not reaching his eyes, which are instead filled with suspicion. You know it isn’t you he’s weary of, not really, but he’s not exactly aware of Chara - either way, the look makes you feel guilty and you lower your head, feeling Chara getting annoyed in your stead, which makes you feel a bit better, but you know Sans is close to catching onto Chara’s existence anyway and you...don’t really want to deal with that kind of fallout just yet.

Luckily the conversation is stopped (or at least postponed) as the doorbell is rung and you watch as Alphys and Undyne step inside, followed by the flashing mass of glamorous that is Mettaton, giving Sans somebody else to focus his hate on.

Chara passes control back to you as everyone starts to settle down and the movie is started, your body pressed in between Toriel’s warmth and Papyrus’...bonely-ness.

Sometime during the movie you fall asleep, and that night you do not dream.


	2. Disbelief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You dream again and spill some details to Sans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha wow look at how unbeta'ed this is  
> if you find any errors please feel free to point them out!! its. so late here rn omg

The second dream is worse than the first, and you hate it hate it _hate it_.

You’re the first to react, body jolting in horror at the sight - you’re both back in the judgement hall, dust staining your clothes, your hands, _the knife_ and you scream, throwing the weapon to the floor and scrambling away from it in terror, feeling Frisk’s agitation in your mind.

You suppose it was to be expected that you’d dream about this moment eventually, but God did you wish you were anywhere else but here - even back in that other horrible dream where everything was backwards. Anywhere, anywhere but _here_.

“SO, HUMAN. NOT GOING TO FACE ME, ARE YOU? AFTER ALL THIS TIME?” You flinch, the voice that reverberated through the hall not the one you’d been expecting at all - in fact, the complete opposite. You felt Frisk shiver mentally and, despite yourself, crawled across the dust covered floor (the dust of all those innocent monsters you, _you_ had killed murderer murderer murderer _murderer_ ) shaking fingers wrapping around the hilt of the knife.

“W-Who’s there?” You (Frisk?) stammer while getting to your feet, despite the voice being entirely unique to one monster and one monster only.

The laughter that echoes through the hallway makes you both shiver and you’re pretty sure Frisk would be crying right now if they had control over your body but you fight back those feelings angrily. Now isn’t the time to back down, stop it stop it _stop it you weakling and help me fight-_

You force your body forward despite the way Frisk holds onto your legs in desperation, a chant of _’We don’t have to do this, Chara!’_ being forced through your mind but you block them out, because what are you if not a murderer?

“SO. YOU KILL MY BROTHER AND YOU CAN’T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO REMEMBER MY NAME.” Your hand clenches tight around the hilt of the knife, knuckles going white with the force. Frisk was still fighting but your determination to finish this nightmare and just _get it over with_ was winning out and you approached the tall figure across from you with a grim expression.

You have the gall to laugh at him in response, the sight in front of you sickeningly amusing - they wear each other’s dust covered clothes and the force of your laugh eventually has you crying, tears running down your cheeks at the hilarious, terrible sight.

Papyrus looks like he might start crying too, but his hands in those giant mitts he calls gloves are clenched and he stands straight, the last line of defense against the murder of the entire underground.

What a fucking pathetic display.

Sans’ jacket doesn’t fit him at all, too short in the...everywhere to cover the taller skeleton’s figure but Papyrus wears it like a badge, proof of his grief and mourning, just like Sans did with the too-long scarf he’d wrapped around his neck.

Frisk is deadly silent in your mind, the restraints on your body no longer there. It feels like you’re alone, for the first time in years, and you hate it with a passion.

“Fine, _fucking fine_. I’ll do this by myself, just like I had to before.” You hiss, the sting of betrayal urging you down this path for a second time. It was just a fucking dream, Frisk needed to stop being such a baby.

“ONCE UPON A TIME, HUMAN, I BELIEVED IN YOU. I THOUGHT THAT YOU COULD CHANGE, THAT YOU COULD GO BACK ON YOUR HORRIBLE WAYS AND NOT DO A MURDER.” The skeleton’s head falls, shoulders shaking and you’re unsure if he’s crying or laughing - potentially both. “THEN YOU _KILLED MY BROTHER_. MY BROTHER WITH HIS ONE MEASLY BIT OF HP. I WONDER HOW MUCH EXP YOU GAINED FROM THAT POINTLESS KILL.”

You find yourself wondering as well, a sick, twisted thought that pervades your mind and lingers. Sans had been the last bit of EXP needed to push your LOVE into the 20’s, but that was only when he’d actually stopped being a lazy sack of trash and actively tried to kill you.

You don’t feel Frisk try to stop you from thinking this and the anger that fills you has you taking the deciding step towards Papyrus, fingers adjusting the grip of the knife in your hand, an action that betrays your nervousness. You hadn’t been nervous before.

“SO, EVEN NOW, WHEN I GIVE YOU THE OPTION...YOU STILL REFUSE TO STOP.” Papyrus closes his eyes, body trembling. “I NEVER UNDERSTOOD WHAT IT WAS SANS WAS RESEARCHING THAT CAUSED HIM TO BECOME SO LAZY - OH? DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, HUMAN, I’M NOT _STUPID_ , I KNOW WHEN MY BROTHER IS LYING TO ME - BUT I KNOW YOU’RE UNBEATABLE. EVEN SO...I’M NOT GOING TO STAND BY AND LET YOU CARRY ON LIKE THIS.”

You’re interested by this turn of events, learning things about Papyrus you might not have known otherwise - so he knows that Sans isn’t completely useless? Interesting.

You suppose the expression on your face must have betrayed your train of thought - _’even when he knew I could and would kill him, he still offered me mercy, this isn’t going to be any different’_ \- because Papyrus gave you a somewhat chilling smile, a far reach from the kindness he’d shown you in the face of danger so long ago.

“YOU THINK I’M GOING TO SPARE YOU, HUMAN? THAT’S CERTAINLY AN INTERESTING THOUGHT. FOR YOU SEE, ONCE UPON A TIME I MIGHT HAVE BELIEVED IN YOU. NOW, HOWEVER? A CREATURE LIKE YOU DOESN’T DESERVE THE TIME OF DAY.” You feel the battle start, the air shifting and the dust perverting your lungs (you think to yourself, unsure on whether to laugh or cry, that you’re currently breathing in dead people and you almost drop the knife).

You psyche yourself up and, hating the way your arm trembles, begin to swing the knife in Papyrus’ direction - only for your body to abruptly turn on yourself and you _scream_ , frustrated at Frisk’s sudden intervention.

“ _Stop it stop it stop it stop it-_ ” You say, or maybe Frisk does, one hand trying to keep down the one holding the knife and you tumble across the floor, kicking and punching at nothing, fighting an invisible enemy.

“You don’t need to do this!” Frisk yells, and you yell too, feeling the knife slip from your fingers, both of you getting coated in the dust your feet had trailed behind you.

“Let me _go_!” You sob in reply, tears now rolling freely down your cheeks as you scramble for the weapon, Frisk resorting to smashing your face into the floor. You feel the blood before you see it and are momentarily stunned, giving Frisk time to kick away the knife and getting another scream out of you. “You’re so stupid I _hate you_ Frisk just let me _kill him_!” It feels like you’re being torn apart at the seams as Frisk urges your body towards Papyrus and you try going for the knife, Frisk clawing at the floor with the hand they’d wrestled control of.

“P-Papyrus- Papyrus, kill me-” The skeleton’s previously determined look had by now dissolved into one of conflict and confusion, staring down at the mess that was you and Frisk, tears rolling down your shared face. “Kill me, please, I d-don’t want to do th-this an-nymo-more...” Frisk begged and it had to be Frisk because you’d never say something like that, you were always the one who was on the offensive, you were _the demon that came when it’s name was called_ and you never ever gave up so why, why were you begging for this stupid fucking skeleton to kill you?

“I- I DON’T-” You feel betrayed - again - let down by another person who just couldn’t muster up the courage to kill even after everything. He was crying now too, falling to his knees in front of you and you screamed again, thrashing and pounding your fists against the floor as the skeleton sobbed over you. “I DON’T W-WANT TO K-KILL YOU! I NE-EVER WANT-WANTED THIS!”

“ _You have to!_ ” You snarl and seeth, getting to your knees in sporadic, jerky movements and curling your shaking fingers around the sleeve of his - Sans’ - jacket, face contorted with hate and desperation. “I k-killed your brother, remember? I _killed everyone you care about!_ ” And all that manages to do is make the skeleton sob even louder, his pitiful wails that you vhemonously ignore sound like the name of a certain other skeleton traveling up and down the corridor, burying themselves in your head.

So you give up on getting through him, instead dragging your still resisting body - and what exactly is Frisk fighting against, at this point? You have a feeling they don’t really know either - across the hall towards the knife, nose leaving a bloody trail across the floor and you’re starting to think your fingers are bleeding too. Eventually you reach the blade and - sob? Sigh? Laugh? - in relief, gripping it in your broken fingers (when did they break? When you were pulling yourself across the floor?) and aim it for your chest-

And once again you’re denied even that, feeling mental restraints on you and you _scream,_ unbearable anguish building inside you.

“What are you doing?!” You screech, and Frisk doesn’t seem to know either, flailing for an answer in your shared consciousness. _’I-I don’t know, it’s not me-’_

_”HUMAN! PUT DOWN THE KNIFE!”_ You laugh, brokenly and turn towards Papyrus with a condescending response already forming- but it’s not _him_ who spoke because he’s still curled up on the floor wailing so then who-?

_“kid, you need to calm down.”_

It’s Sans’ voice that eventually grounds you and you wake from the terrible nightmare with a sudden start, Frisk regaining control with a start and a sob, throwing your body into a confused Papyrus’ arms.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m _sorry_ -” Guilt builds up in your gut suddenly and you try to tune out Frisk’s apologies because it’s not even their fault it’s _yours_ , you’re the one who tried to kill the skeleton again and from the stare you’re both getting from Sans, he _knows_.

“UM??? THERE, THERE, HUMAN, THERE’S NO NEED TO APOLOGISE TO ME! YOU HAVE DONE NO HARM TO THE GREAT PAPYRUS! EVEN THOUGH, YOU PROBABLY COULD HAVE, WITH THAT KNIFE OF YOURS.” You jerk out of Papyrus’ arms, taking control as you survey the surrounding area. You’re in a kitchen - Sans and Papyrus’ kitchen and for a moment you wonder _why_ but then you remember they’d invited Frisk for a sleepover. The next thing you notice is the knife on the floor and you shudder, taking a step away from it in horror.

It wasn’t exactly hard to deduce what had happened - you’d been sleepwalking, probably screaming and crying from the way your throat hurt and your head pounded, and then attempted to commit suicide in the skeleton’s kitchen.

It was honestly kind of absurd and you found yourself laughing, unsure on whether it was you or Frisk who had started first.

“HAHA! YES! WHAT A STRANGE AND FUNNY EVENT THAT HAS JUST TAKEN PLACE.” Papyrus does his best but you know laughing is entirely inappropriate so you both try to stop, Frisk turning towards Sans’ half concerned, half suspicious look, despite you doing your best to not look at him because _God_ you were both a mess.

“c’mon, kid. let’s get you back into bed.” Frisk give a mumble of agreement, a reluctance to talk and heavy drowsiness suddenly overtaking you both after all that and you’re left with the job of slugging your body upstairs, Frisk already half-asleep in your head and leaving you alone with the shorter skeleton.

Great.

You get into bed in the spare room that might as well be yours with how much time you spend in it, pulling the bed-covers up and over your face to block out everything - Sans’ stupid, concerned expression, the light that Frisk insisted had to be on because they were still afraid of the dark after all this time, life in general.

You do your best, but ultimately Sans does not leave and you groan despite yourself, yanking the covers back down to give him your best ‘Frisk’ impression.

“Tired. Gonna sleep.”

“yeah, usually I wouldn’t have a problem with that, kid, but we’ve gotta have a chat.”

“ _Tired._ ” You stress, trying to get him to _go away already_ but you know he knows and he knows you know he knows so instead he leans back against the closed bedroom door, arms folding over his chest as he watched you wearily.

“look, i know you ain’t frisk. i don’t know _who_ you are exactly, but you hate me and i hate you so let’s just get this over with, capiche?” You don’t respond, tempted to say something cruel but Frisk isn’t awake anymore to temper you so you keep your mouth shut tight. “i know what it’s like to have nightmares-” and you snort despite yourself, smacking a hand over your mouth but Sans is already glaring at you and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. ‘Sure, please do continue to talk about your PTSD bullshit or whatever.’ “you done, kid? whatever. my point is, if you’re having trouble, you can talk to me about it. there, i’m finished - and tell that to frisk when they wake up tomorrow.” He sticks a phalange in your direction and you sigh to yourself, watching the door open and then close.

For a minute, you do nothing except stare at the ceiling, a blank expression on your face, the weights of your sins making you clench and unclench your fist, imagining the hilt of a knife between your fingers.

You’d been so close to doing something...Unimaginably bad. Sure, if you’d died in real life you could have gone back to a save or even reset, but you had no idea how long ago your last save was and Sans would certainly not be happy with a reset after you’d _promised_. Even so, you hadn’t thought that your nightmares might make you start sleepwalking.

With a groan you rolled over and attempted sleep, not ready to deal with the guilt and horror bubbling up from inside you at the thought of what you - you and only you - had done.

* * *

 

“GOOD MORNING, HUMAN!” You stumble blearily down the stairs, neither you or Frisk enjoying being awake after the terrible night previous, Papyrus’ loud voice not doing much to help - Frisk still hugged him extra tight as you passed, though and you let the hug happen despite there not being much _to_ hug except empty spaces and sharp angles. “THERE’S BEEN A LOT OF HUGGING HAPPENING RECENTLY! THE GREAT PAPYRUS QUITE LIKES HUGS!” He does his best to hug you back and for for once you find yourself enjoying the way his bones wrap around you - it wasn’t exactly Toriel, but it would do, especially after- Frisk cuts off your train of thought and you let them. You hadn’t spoken to each other once since waking up, and you knew that they were angry with you.

Breakfast is slightly uncomfortable - Frisk pours out a bowl of Coco Pops and you’re confused because Frisk hates chocolate, but then you’re shoved into control and you realise with a dirty feeling that they did that for you, even though you’re far from deserving it. _’Not hungry.’_ is the only response you get from your mental probing and even though you’re not particularly hungry either you crunch on the cereal anyway, letting your thoughts get carried away as you watched Papyrus chew on his own sandwich.

Your first thought was, of course, ‘how do they do that again?’ but you and Frisk had quickly learnt that questioning anything the skeletons managed to do was a pointless activity, so you didn’t bother. However, your following thought was about what the ‘other Papyrus’ had said in your nightmare.

_’Stop it.’_ Frisk said suddenly, interrupting your thinking and you huffed, muttering an “aren’t you curious, too?” in response. A ‘no’ was the reply and you sighed, dropping your spoon into your now-empty cereal bowl unceremoniously. You hated how stubborn Frisk could be sometimes.

Sans comes trudging down the stairs soon after and Papyrus looks up in surprise, a pleased grin coming onto his face.

“BROTHER! YOU’RE AWAKE!! AND IT’S BEFORE NOON!!!” Sans sends his brother a grin in response, but he’s exhausted and it shows as he shuffles into the kitchen to make...something.

“yup. promised tori i’d have the kid back soon, so.” Papyrus only seemed to smile wider, if that was even possible.

“I’M PROUD OF YOU, SANS! MAYBE SOON YOU CAN ACCOMPANY ME ON ONE OF MY DAILY JO-”

“you might even say that i’m doing my best to be on… _thyme_.” You groan in irritation as Sans interrupts and makes the added effort to lob a small container of spice at his brother, who catches it rather impressively despite it almost going over his shoulder.

“OH MY GOD, SANS.” Papyrus sighs, putting the spice down at the table and glancing at it before doing a double take, getting to his feet in overdramatic irritation and sending his chair flying backwards. “THIS ISN’T EVEN THYME?? IT’S CINNAMON???”

“eh, i had to make do with what we had.” Sans responds, sitting down at the table with a hot dog that Papyrus looks at critically. “we’ve run out of thyme, by the way.” Sans sends his fuming brother a grin and you can _feel_ Frisk’s giggling bubbling up inside you and you hate this so much.

“UGH!! WELL, I SUPPOSE I’LL GO OUT AND BUY SOME WHEN I GO SHOPPING TODAY-”

“nah bro, let me do it.”

“...WAIT, REALLY??”

“yeah. me ‘n the kid’ll go shopping before i drop ‘em off.” You freeze, scowling. Of course he’d plan something like this - any excuse not to just ‘shortcut’ his way straight to Toriel. Papyrus gives his brother a long, almost suspicious look before saying the word ‘sigh’ out loud - it wasn’t as if either brother could actually sigh without lungs, so Papyrus did his best as always.

“WELL, IF YOU’RE SURE, BROTHER. HERE’S THE LIST!” You watch with a growing sense of irritation as Sans finishes off his hot dog and takes the list Papyrus gives him, strolling over to the door before grinning at you.

“you coming, kid?” Frisk takes over, following Sans outside with a giddy sense of excitement - you know they love the skeleton’s weird teleportation gimmick and even though you hate the way it makes your stomach churn afterwards, you let it go - Frisk deserved to have nice things too, this _is_ their body and their mind you’re sharing.

Sans teleports you both to the nearest store and Frisk follows him, always eager to help. You hadn’t had a chance to tell them about the ‘conversation’ the skeleton had with you the night before, what with your mutual silent treatment. You had no doubt he was going to lecture Frisk separately on this ‘spontaneous shopping trip’ anyway, so you didn’t see the point in telling them about it now.

“so, kid.” Frisk turns to Sans after he’s spoken, a curious look on your face as they’re distracted from browsing the ice-cream section. “i wanted to talk to you about your little...pal.” Oh, here it comes. You feel the imaginary guards going up around Frisk and you’re astounded that their first thought is to defend _you_ , despite it all. He turns and gives you a surprised look that then melts into one of slight offense. “oh c’mon, frisk, you don’t have to look at me like that.”

“...Dunno.” Frisk eventually mutters, and you wonder why they choose to use such simple vocabulary when you know they can talk like any other normal person can. They smack you mentally for it, reminding you of where you where and what was happening and _’maybe I’m trying to ignore him?’_ Frisk rolls your eyes and Sans watches you both from a distance, his expression betraying how uncomfortable he was.

“yeah, see, this is what i’m talking about. you make some pretty interesting faces talking to yourself like that.” Frisk pauses and sighs and you _know_ eventually he had to learn at some point but it wasn’t as if you’ve ever had to look forward to it.

“Their name is Chara.” Frisk started and you panic, momentarily, wondering just how much Frisk was going to spill in this very public human store - but Sans isn’t exactly stupid and it doesn’t take him long to connect the dots.

“whoa, what? you mean, chara dreemurr? _that_ chara?”

“Yeah.” Frisk responds, and the mundane tone they use makes you laugh, just a bit. Sans already looks like he’s got a headache and you snort, knowing it only goes downhill from that point.

“so you’ve got a dead kid’s soul inside you??” He asks, confusion lacing his tone.

“Not exactly.” It takes Frisk a moment to try and explain, because neither of you really understand the ‘why’ or the ‘how’ of your body sharing, it just...Happened, when Frisk fell into the underground and now you were stuck together. That was the explanation Frisk gave, anyway, and Sans rubs at his skull with a hand, looking simultaneously perplexed and fascinated.

“shit.” Sans mutters, and you feel Frisk’s mild irritation at the swear in the back of your mind. It was almost amusing how the other could think like that even in what was supposed to be a serious situation. “i mean, y’know, it’d be nice to...try and figure out what-”

“No way!” You interrupt, having prepared yourself for something like this. You’d be damned if you let anybody _experiment_ on Frisk’s soul.

“Chara, it’d be nice to get some help-”

“What?? No, I’m not letting _him_ get his greasy… _Bones_ all over your soul-”

“Why not?” You splutter indignantly at Frisk’s response, folding your arms over your chest and ignoring the ‘look’ Sans was giving you for seemingly talking to yourself.

“Because! He!! And we!!! Ugh.” Frisk sighed, rubbing at your forearms in what might have been an attempt to comfort you and you appreciate it, no matter how ineffective it was.

“We can trust Sans. He’s our friend.” You frowned, turning to give the skeleton a suspicious glare. After a few seconds of staring him down Sans sighed, shoving a hand into one of his pockets and diverting the lights he called eyes away from your face.

“look, kid, i don’t want to hurt you. i hate your guts, sure, but if frisk says that i can trust you, then I will. who knows, maybe we can even get you your own body once we figure this out.” You freeze, then fold your arms over your chest irritably. You say nothing, but Frisk already understands and takes over for you.

“Sans, Chara and I, we...Have an arrangement. It’s something we’re both happy with. We’d both prefer to keep sharing.” Sans looks surprised but then shrugs, looking a whole lot more casual now that he knew a little more than he did half an hour ago.

“welp, if you’re sure.” He gave you both one last look over, grin somewhat dimmed. “i’m not gonna force you to do anything you don’t wanna do...chara. but i think having alphys take a look at your soul would be a good idea.” Then the instance is over and, after a moment's hesitation from Frisk, they continue to choose some ice-cream.

_’Chocolate?’_ They ask and you frown, glancing over at Sans again before answering.

“Aren’t you still mad at me?”

_’...No.’_ Frisk responds, their tone sincere. You huff and shake your head.

“Whatever, I don’t like ice-cream that much anyway. You choose some.” So, cheerful, they eventually decide on strawberry instead. You hate strawberry, but they hate chocolate so it’s only fair you put up with it. Sans is waiting at the checkout - he went on ahead while Frisk was browsing, but although how friendly he seems you can tell he still has something on his mind.

Frisk notices as well and pretends not to.

By the time you all get to Toriel’s house it is actually quite late and while waiting for your mom to open the door Sans rummages through his shopping bag, muttering a “damn, forgot the thyme…” under his breath.

“Hello? Ah, Sans! Welcome home, my child.” Toriel opens the door and instantly Frisk runs into her arms, both of you enjoying the comfort of her warm, enveloping hugs. As a contrast to ‘literal human dangerzone Papyrus’, your mom was made up of nothing but warm fur and kindness. The smell of pie lingered in the air and you smiled despite yourself. You were home.

“hey, tori. sorry it took so long to get here, had to go shopping for stuff for papyrus and i took the kid with me for convenience. y’know me; doin’ whatever i can to slack off.” He winked and Toriel laughed, covering her mouth with one hand. You and Frisk shared a moment of understanding - you loved your mom, really you did and (at least to Frisk), Sans was a great guy. But the idea of them together...It just didn’t sit well with either of you.

“Would you like to come in for some pie?” Toriel asks him and he shrugs, looking sheepish.

“ah man, i’d love to, but...i forgot to pick something up from the store, and paps is probably waiting for me. sorry to let you down.” Toriel does look a little disappointed, but smiles at the skeleton regardless.

“It is not a problem, Sans. Perhaps we can plan a meetup of sorts!”

“yeah, that’d be great. see you around, tori.” She goes into the house and Frisk goes to follow, both of you sighing in exasperated fondness at the shrill tones of Flowey as he questions Toriel on whether or not you’ve arrived - but before you can take a step Sans puts his hand on his shoulder, and when you turn your head the lights in his eyesockets are out. “i don’t know what you’re gonna do now, kid. but if i were you...i’d tell her, and soon.” Then he’s gone, disappearing and leaving nothing but the smell of soot and sugar behind.


End file.
